When Reality Hits
by JoKing
Summary: Sequel to Dreams Aren't Reality. Chloe's in Metropolis, Clark's spaceship is missing and Lex is mixed up in it all.
1. Part One

Part One  
  
CHOLE  
  
I've been here in Metropolis for 3 weeks now and all I can think about is that damn kiss between Clark and Lana. Aaahhhh!!!  
  
This is so, stupid! It's got nothing to do with me, nothing.  
  
Ok, what was I doing? Aaah, yes, doing some research for Perry on the environmental issues for.why doesn't he like me? I mean, am I that repulsive?  
  
Yes, my hair could be silkier, my eyes could be bigger and more fawn-like (Lana Lang style), but I'm alright, I'm pretty.kind of. I have wit and humour and.I have nothing compared to Lana. I hate her, but I like her! Aaaahhh!!!!  
  
Ok, I'm stopping now, Clark is back in Smallville and I'm here, doing what I want to do, journalism, reporting.  
  
Who cares if he hasn't rung or e-mailed for a week. a whole week, a whole, lonely week. Who cares?  
  
Ok, I do. I care!  
  
(Knock on door)  
  
Wonder who's that? Pizza guy? Or maybe coffee guy? (and yes, I know they don't exist).  
  
CLARK  
  
What number was it again? 22? 24? Oh yeah, 21.  
  
Can't wait to see Chloe's face.  
  
It was such a good idea to come up for a surprise visit. Pat myself on the back, well done Clark.  
  
Smallville has not been the same without Chloe; she's the fire behind the smoke, so, to speak. It's weird but without Lana to mooch over or Chloe to talk to, I felt really lonely.But now, I get to spend some time with my friend, my best friend Chloe, my Chloe.  
  
And here we are.21.  
  
(Knocks on door)  
  
"Clark!" Chloe yells, her mouth wide open. She rushes over to me and bear hugs me or tries to.  
  
"Hi Chloe," I say, looking at the blonde mass of hair. It's so, good to see her.  
  
"What are you doing here?" She says, still shocked.  
  
"Can I come in first?" I ask, suddenly feeling self-conscious about standing out in the hallway.  
  
"Only if you promise not to get mud on the carpet," Chloe replies, eyeing my dirty farm boots.  
  
"Scout's honour," I say, laughing.  
  
God, I've missed her.  
  
"Where's your dad?" I ask, looking around the Sullivan's' apartment. It's exactly what a city apartment should be, smart and stylish. A lot like Chloe, I guess.  
  
"He went out for dinner, with some old friends. So, it's just you and me, alone," Chloe says quite flirtatiously or am I imagining things? Must be, Chloe's my friend not.  
  
I nod and sit on the couch and look down at the papers on the table, Daily Planet stuff, I guess. I feel a little nervous, Chloe's comment's thrown me a little, I wonder if she thinks about that almost kiss, we had? I know, I do, once in awhile, every now and then, sometimes. I wonder what it would be like to have her as my.  
  
"Coffee?" She asks, jolting me out of my trance.  
  
"You know that stuff will kill you," I answer.  
  
She raises her eyebrows at me and shakes her head.  
  
"Fine, I'll have one," I say begrudgingly, instant smile on her face. I like making Chloe smile.  
  
"Right answer," She replies and walks off to the kitchen. I hear her making a racquet and settle back into the couch.  
  
"So, where you staying?" Chloe calls from the kitchen.  
  
"Here," I yell back.  
  
"What!?" She shouts, "where?"  
  
"This couch is really comfy.," I say, patting the seat.  
  
"Yeah, it's infested with fleas," she calls back.  
  
I instantly leap off the couch.  
  
"Only joking,"  
  
I shake my head for being so, gullible.  
  
"Well, I could always snuggle up with you," I say cheekily, sniggering slightly. A little payback for the flea comment.  
  
"What?!" She yells and I hear a clatter, "shoot."  
  
I laugh again and walk to the kitchen, to find Chloe clutching her hand.  
  
"What happened? Are you ok?" I ask concerned. I look down at her finger and see it's bleeding. I grab her hand and inspect the wound, "does it hurt?"  
  
"No, it's fine," Chloe replies, placing her other hand on mine, pushing it away slightly.  
  
I think I should let go of her hand but I don't want to and keep hold of it tightly. Chloe looks at me puzzled, her blue eyes shining with life. I'm getting that feeling I had when we were at the dance together, the one where I want to kiss her and I want to act on it so, much.  
  
You know what? I'm going to do it, I'm going to lean forward and kiss her. I've been thinking about this ever since she left and now, I have the chance to find out. Come on, Clark. I start to lean forward and I can feel her do the same, I can feel her breath on my face and.  
  
"Suck it,"  
  
"What?" I ask. 


	2. Part Two

Part Two  
  
CHLOE  
  
I can't believe it, Clark's here, in my (dad's) apartment! He looks better than I remember and taller and.I love him!  
  
Aaaahhh!  
  
I wonder what happened to Miss. Perfect Lana Lang? No, don't think about her, she's not here and you are, remember that, you're here with him now.  
  
"What are you doing here?" I ask, staring at him. He looks at me and my knees wobble slightly.  
  
"Can I come in first?"  
  
You can come in forever, if you like, I think. No, don't say that. Say something different, friendly, something Chloe.  
  
"Only if you promise not to get mud on the carpet," I say.  
  
He smiles broadly and I can't look at him, 'cause if I do, I'll cry.  
  
Look at his boots, his dirty boots.  
  
"Scout's honour," I hear Clark reply.  
  
You know, he'd make a damn fine boy scout. I'd buy cookies off him; actually I'd buy anything off him. Oh wait, that's girl scouts.  
  
"Where's your dad?" He asks and I watch him walk into the apartment or rather the back of him.  
  
"He went out for dinner, with some old friends. So, it's just you and me, alone," I say in, what I hope is a flirty tone and for a second I think that Clark actually picks up on this. But then he flops onto the couch and nods sleepily, he didn't hear it. Damn.  
  
"Coffee?" I ask, trying to snap him out of his daze. Probably day dreaming about Lana Lang.  
  
"You know that stuff will kill you," he answers.  
  
I raise my eyebrows at him, when he did become a hater of coffee? Lana overload must have driven him insane. How sad, I think, shaking my head.  
  
"Fine, I'll one," he says begrudgingly.  
  
I smile, maybe not completely insane, then.  
  
"Right answer," I reply and walk off to the kitchen.  
  
I put the kettle on and wait for the water to boil.  
  
Hmm...I'm a little hungry. Make a sandwich I think, I could go for a HLT (ham, lettuce and tomato).  
  
Now, where's the bread knife?  
  
Ok, can't find it, so have resorted to using a normal sharp knife.  
  
"So, where you staying?" I call, cutting the bread.  
  
"Here," he screams back.  
  
"What!?" I shout, "where?"  
  
"This couch is really comfy.," Clark replies.  
  
"Yeah, it's infested with fleas," I call back, laughing slightly, "Only joking,"  
  
"Well, I could always snuggle up with you," I hear him say cheekily.  
  
"What!?" I yell, my hand slipping and."shoot."  
  
I clutch my hand and see the blood oozing out of it.  
  
"What happened? Are you ok?" I hear Clark ask.  
  
I didn't even hear him come in.  
  
"Does it hurt?" he asks, his eyes focused on my finger.  
  
"No, it's fine," I reply, placing my hand on his. I want to push it away, but I don't really. He doesn't move his hand and thoughts of him, sleeping in the apartment with me, stream into my head.  
  
Clark on the couch sleeping, his hair lightly falling on his face. Then there's me, brushing it away slightly.  
  
As this image envelops my thoughts, another pops in, Clark in my room, in my bed. Holding me in his strong arms, his hands on.  
  
I recover back to reality and see, him leaning in. Oh my God, he's going to kiss me, it's happening, reality and fantasy have collided!  
  
More thoughts hit my mind, his soft lips on mine, his fingers stroking my hair and running down my back. His mouth gently sucking my bottom lip.  
  
"Suck it,"  
  
"What?" Clark answers.  
  
"What?" I answer.  
  
Did I just say that out loud?  
  
Clark looks at me puzzled and amused at the same time.  
  
"Did you just tell me to suck it?" he asks, folding his arms and smirking.  
  
"No, I meant." think Chloe, think. "I meant, I should suck my finger, to stop the bleeding," I shove my finger in my mouth and feel the taste of my blood in my mouth.  
  
Clark seems convinced and nods.  
  
Phew, dodged that bullet, kind of.  
  
"Chloe, I just want to say.," he starts.  
  
"Chloe!" my dad yells.  
  
He walks in and stares at me and Clark.  
  
"What's going on in here, then?" he asks, his tone implying something else.  
  
"Chloe just cut her finger," Clark answers coolly.  
  
I nod in agreement, my finger still lodged in my mouth.  
  
"That all?" my dad inquires, raising his eyebrows slightly.  
  
That man can be so, embarrassing sometimes.  
  
"Yup, that's all," Clark replies, winking at me.  
  
Damn, them!  
  
CLARK  
  
I'm lying on the Sullivan's couch, thinking about what's happened so far.  
  
After the kitchen incident, things returned to normal and when I say that, I mean Chloe and me, just pretended that almost kiss didn't happen again. I guess, it's just like old times, exactly what I wanted, right?  
  
If that's true, then what is this funny feeling in the pit of my heart?  
  
Huh, what was that?  
  
I look into the blackness and nothing.  
  
There is nothing there, you and your overactive imagination.  
  
Go to sleep, Clark. Go to sleep.  
  
CHLOE  
  
I'm lying in my bed and can't get to sleep. All I can think is that Clark is less than 20 feet away from me, sleeping.  
  
Stop thinking about him. Stop.  
  
But I can't! Not after that almost kiss, that almost kiss that would have happened if I hadn't of opened my big mouth. Stupid mouth! I need something to shut it up.  
  
Maybe Clark's mouth. No, stop thinking about it.  
  
And Chloe Sullivan, you are not going to go and watch him sleep. No, don't get out of bed, no, don't open the door. Fine, one peek.  
  
I look out of my door and sneak down the corridor and see the figure on my couch. I watch Clark's chest rise and fall, his arms clutching the blanket. I wish that was me, he was clutching.  
  
(Creak) Stupid floorboard! Crap, he's looking over here, go to your bedroom, go now!  
  
Ok, I'm lying in my bed, breathing rapidly. That was a close call, what if Clark had seen me, watching him? Aaahh!  
  
Go to sleep, Chloe. Go to sleep. 


	3. Part Three

Part Three  
  
CLARK  
  
I open my eyes and hear the sounds of car horns blaring through the windows. How can people sleep? Wait.they probably don't, this is Metropolis.  
  
What time is it? Hmm.9 am.  
  
I wonder if Chloe's up? Probably not.  
  
As I remember, she's not an early bird.  
  
I get up and walk towards the kitchen, thinking that I'll make some coffee for Chloe when I find that the coffee pot is already full of the black stuff. Strange.  
  
Anyway, I walk over to kitchen table and find a white piece of paper, folded over with my name on it. Inside reads:  
  
"To Clark, You're finally up!! (shock) And I thought you were the early bird. Anyway, I had to leave early this morning, stuff to do at the planet and my dad's probably already left to do some work. I should be finished by lunch time, so come up and we'll do lunch. and then I can show you around. So, meet me in the Daily Planet lobby at 12:30pm. Just catch a cab.I know, your first time in a cab, can't believe I'll miss it. But anyway, remember 12:30pm. Bye.  
  
Chloe.  
  
xxx.  
  
p.s. There's coffee and toast, knock yourself out."  
  
12:30, mental note. Don't be late.  
  
CHLOE  
  
I wonder if Clark got my note?  
  
Course he did. It was right there on the kitchen table.  
  
"Sullivan!" Perry White's voice echoes.  
  
"Yes?" I answer.  
  
"Have you finished yet?" He calls back.  
  
I peer at the blank computer screen, I was supposed to have finished typing up the article by now.  
  
"Almost. Just putting some finishing touches to it," I reply, lying through my teeth.  
  
I look up to see Perry's face looking out of his office, "What I like to hear, Sullivan." With that, he's disappeared back into the nerve centre of the Daily Planet.  
  
Ok Chloe, stop thinking about Clark.concentrate on your work.  
  
Now, where did I put that draft? Or more importantly, where's my coffee?  
  
CLARK  
  
12: 20, I should be going.  
  
For the past hour or so, I've just been lounging around. Just hanging out. I haven't done that for so, long.there's always been something to do.  
  
I walk towards the door when the phone rings.  
  
"Hello, Sullivan residence," I reply.  
  
I hope this doesn't take long.  
  
"Clark?" my mother's voice asks.  
  
I hear something in her voice, which implies this isn't a social call.  
  
"Mum? What's wrong?"  
  
"It's.your.," her voice breaks and I hear her sob a little.  
  
"What?" I ask loudly.  
  
"It's your father.he's in hospital," she bursts out.  
  
I can't believe it.my father's in hospital.  
  
"Clark?"  
  
But it's too late, I've dropped the phone and I'm racing back to Smallville. The wind rushes against my face and I wish I could go faster.Don't worry, dad, I'm coming.  
  
Sorry Chloe.  
  
CHLOE  
  
12: 40. No big deal, he's probably running late.  
  
12: 50. Where is he? I hope nothing's happened to him.  
  
1:05. Ok, you know that something that's happened to him.yeah, that's gonna be me.  
  
1: 15. No answer at home. Maybe he went back home.probably missed Lana too much and couldn't bear to be parted.  
  
Stupid Chloe!  
  
"Chloe?"  
  
I turn around and see the smiling face of Lex Luthor staring at me.  
  
"Hi Lex," I say quietly.  
  
"Waiting for someone?" he asks, seeing me looking around the lobby.  
  
"I was.," I reply, letting out a sigh.  
  
Clark? Where are you?  
  
"Well, I was just going to go for lunch. Care to join me?" he asks smoothly and before I can stop myself, I say yes.  
  
"I'll just get the car," he says, before striding off.  
  
I shake my head, trying to shake off feelings of guilt about leaving. But I shouldn't feel like this, should I? Clark, stood me up, right?  
  
Damn him!  
  
CLARK  
  
I arrive at the hospital, sweat forming on my forehead.  
  
I walk down the corridor and think of the many times, I've been here. Seeing friends and family that have been hurt and mostly because of me.a wave of guilt feels me.  
  
"Clark!" my mother yells and hugs me.  
  
"Where is he?" I ask, my throat tightening.  
  
My mother blinks away tears and looks towards the nearest room.  
  
I edge towards the door and look inside. I see my father, lying there motionless, and tubes sticking out of him. His left eye swollen and a cut on his forehead.  
  
It makes my stomach turn and ache.  
  
"Who.how.," I don't what to ask or think.  
  
"I found him in the storm cellar this morning," my mother's voice says.  
  
I'm left speechless. I have to sit down.  
  
"Clark, there's something else.,"  
  
"Hmm.," I clutch my father's hand and squeeze it.  
  
"Clark," my mother whispers, putting a hand on my shoulder.  
  
I hear her take a massive breath before speaking again, "Your spaceship is missing."  
  
Words and faces blur, as I ran out of the hospital.  
  
This is not happening.this is not happening.  
  
Someone please, tell me this is not happening. 


	4. Part Four

* Decided to add more people's POV, to make it more interesting*  
  
Part Four  
  
JONATHAN  
  
"I wonder how Clark's doing?" Martha asks, pouring me a cup of coffee.  
  
"Probably wondering the city with Chloe," I reply dryly, taking a sip.  
  
Martha gives me one of her looks and I shake my head.  
  
"I'd better be getting on. A farm can't run itself," I say, getting up and kissing her on the forehead.  
  
"Ok," she answers quietly.  
  
"Oh Martha," she turns to look at me, "Don't wait up for me. Got some business with the Taylors."  
  
"Anything I should know about?" she inquires, rinsing off a cup.  
  
"Nothing much. He just wants to buy some cattle off us," I say, reaching for my car keys.  
  
"Ok. I'll save some dinner for you then," she smiles warmly and goes back to her washing up.  
  
I walk to the truck and think what a great day it is.  
  
***  
  
I pull into our driveway and it's way past 11, Martha's probably asleep. As I get out of the pick-up, I look up and see the stars sprinkled across eternity. I watch them and think of Clark, the son that fell from the stars.  
  
Then for no reason, I feel a wave of panic hit me and I have to see it, check it, know it's safe.  
  
I walk quickly to our storm cellar and unlock it with the keys I carry with me all the time. I peer into the darkness and walk down cautiously.  
  
Then I see it, the metal glinting in the moonlight. My son's cradle sitting here safe from prying eyes and minds.  
  
"Hey Art.oomph,"  
  
There's a loud crash and Abe Robinson falls down into our cellar, drunk.  
  
"Where'd you go, Abe?" Art's drunken voice echoes into the night.  
  
"I'm.here.," Abe says, getting up and trying to steady himself.  
  
I cringe at the sight of Abe and Art, who has just stumbled into the cellar as well.  
  
"Hey, it's Jonathan Kent," Art says smiling.  
  
"Come on boys, you'd better leave," I say forcefully, pushing Abe towards the exit.  
  
"Hey, don't you go pushing me now," Abe answers, swatting my hand away. The stench of whisky is heavy on his breath.  
  
"Look here, Abe. It's one of them alien things," Art calls, pointing to Clark's spaceship.  
  
I suddenly realise what I've let them see and curse myself for being so, absentminded. I quickly try and cover it up but it's too late. Both drunks have now become engrossed in the object.  
  
"It's pretty," Abe says, running a hand over it.  
  
I quickly pull him back, whereby he pushes me off.  
  
"Look, you need to leave now," I say loudly.  
  
They both look at me, grinning like fools.  
  
"I ain't ready to leave yet," Abe shouts, staggering slightly.  
  
I begin to feel my anger building and grab Abe by the cuff, pulling him to the exit. As we reach the stairs, I feel Art's hands on my shoulders and suddenly I'm on the floor.  
  
"Git your hands off him," Art yells.  
  
"You need to leave now!" I scream back, getting up.  
  
"And what you gonna do about it, if we don't?" Art says, poking me in the chest.  
  
I can't hold back anymore and I throw a punch, which makes contact on Art's left cheek. Art stumbles back but recovers quickly, swinging back at me, but he misses. His judgement greatly impaired by the sweet poison he's drunk.  
  
I begin to aim another punch at Art's face when I feel Abe grab my arms and hold me back.  
  
Two against one were never my favourite odds.  
  
"Had enough?" Art shouts, swaggering from side to side.  
  
I gaze him and sneer, "Get out."  
  
Art's face contorts into anger and he launches another attack on my stomach, with Abe holding me securely.  
  
He stops and looks at the damage's he caused, "You know, Kent. That alien thing is awfully nice, could earn me a good penny...,"  
  
He never got to finish his sentence because with my last ounce of strength, I fly at him, breaking out of Abe's grip, my fists raining down on him. Art tries to feebly ward me off but without Abe to hold me, he's got no such luck.  
  
"Abe, help me! You son of a bitch, help me!" he screams loudly.  
  
I keep pummelling Art harder and harder.  
  
But then I feel it, the short, sharp pain on my head and then. black fills my eyes.  
  
As I awaken from my short sleep, I feel that my left eye is swollen and that my bones are aching. I then see the image of my two attackers clumsily dragging my son's cradle up the cellar stairs then. darkness as the door slams shut and my eyes fall closed.  
  
LEX  
  
There are mysteries and then there are secrets in the world. The difference is that one is to be solved and one is to be kept. But I've found in this life, that when solving one, you always have to break the other.  
  
"Mr. Luthor," Jameson calls.  
  
"Yes?" I answer, looking at my supposed head of security.  
  
"We found two trespassers on your grounds."  
  
"Really? And they are where now?" I say, cutting him off.  
  
"We've sent them off to the sheriff."  
  
"Good. Was that all? Or do you enjoy wasting my time with petty incidents?" I say sharply.  
  
I should have had that man fired a long time ago, but daddy dearest did insist on having this 180 pound gorilla watch out for me or rather watch over.  
  
"Well, we found something else with them. You'd better come and see," he says, moving shiftily from one foot to another.  
  
Is it me or does he seem excited? It must be me.  
  
I nod and follow the oaf downstairs into another part of the Luthor mansion. I see Jameson's steps quicken as we approach our destination and I begin to wonder whether maybe, this is something worth being interested in.  
  
I enter the room and see it, the smooth metallic curves, the haunting colour of something that isn't of this earth.  
  
Finally something that might bring me some answers.  
  
"And this is what the two were holding?" I ask.  
  
"They were trying to drag it to one of their houses, I think," Jameson replies.  
  
"I want them questioned. Find out anything and everything. I want to know what this is and who's it is," I say loudly.  
  
Jameson indicates to two of his men and they quickly walk out without another word.  
  
I approach the craft with slight caution and inspect it. The outside seems so, hard and cold but whether or not the inside is the same, is left to be seen.  
  
"I want the chopper brought around," I command.  
  
Jameson looks at me puzzled but then quickly goes off to fulfil my orders.  
  
"We're going to Metropolis," I mutter, placing a hand on the spaceship, my spaceship.  
  
***  
  
"You have a visitor, Mr. Luthor," Ben announces to me.  
  
I just flew into Metropolis 2 days ago and already a visitor, aren't I popular, I think to myself.  
  
"Lex," Trevor McDonald says, walking into my office.  
  
"Trevor. How can I help you today?" I answer.  
  
Although I can guess, he wants what every reporter wants, a story.  
  
"A chat. Maybe about what's been happening to the young Lex, who was mysteriously shipped off to Littleville?" he replies.  
  
His subtlety is on par with a pink elephant.  
  
"Smallville and you know my policy, no interviews," I answer coldly.  
  
"Sorry. Look Lex, we've played this game before and we know how it ends.,"  
  
"With you leaving," I snap back.  
  
He laughs and shakes his head, "Lex, Lex, so quick. But I'm afraid I'm quicker this time."  
  
I look at him puzzled but then gain my composure and offer him a challenging look.  
  
"I know, Lex."  
  
I remain silent.  
  
"About your little, what shall we say, project?" he smirks, he knows he has me.  
  
"Project?" I answer, trying not to give the game away.  
  
"Don't play dumb with me, I deserve more than that," Trevor says loudly, placing his hands on my desk.  
  
You deserve what all reporters deserve, to be shot, I think to myself. But I would never say out loud, got to keep up appearances.  
  
"I don't know what you mean. So, if you don't mind, I have things to do," I say, getting a pen out.  
  
"Fine, I'll play. Take a look at these," he shoves some photographs over to me.  
  
I pick them up and they reveal what I always hate seeing, defeat, my defeat specifically.  
  
I think over my options and get up to face him, "what do you want?"  
  
"Just an exclusive interview with Lex Luthor, that's all," he replies, cocking his head to the side, inspecting my reaction.  
  
"And then?"  
  
"Then your little alien hunting expedition is safe."  
  
"Fine," I say through gritted teeth. I hate having to give in to this trash.  
  
"The Daily Planet," you know where my office is. Say in an hour's time?" Trevor asks. He doesn't bother to hear my answer because he knows it'll be a yes.  
  
I watch him leave, his smarmy grin plastered in my head. He may have won the battle but the war's not over yet.  
  
"Jameson," I say loudly into my mobile.  
  
"Yes," he answers back.  
  
"I want all the people that know about my project to be questioned. I want to know how that bastard of a reporter found out,"  
  
"But.," he stutters.  
  
"Jameson, don't make me repeat myself."  
  
"Very well," he replies and hangs up.  
  
I slam my fist on the table and begin to think up what to do next. Preferably something which involves Trevor and a machete.  
  
***  
  
I walk out of Trevor's office, wiping the filth off my suit. I make my way to the elevator and press down.  
  
I gave a good performance, charming and polite, what everyone expects but doesn't want to read. They crave my past conquests, drugs, trouble, women, police. That's the Lex Luthor they want to read about.  
  
As I enter the lobby, I look around and see a familiar figure. I walk over and take in the girl in front of me, Chloe Sullivan, pretty, inquisitive, determined and Clark's best friend. I'd nearly forgotten she's working here as an intern.  
  
Now that's an interesting coincidence but not an altogether bad one.  
  
"Chloe?"  
  
She turns around and I greet her with a smile.  
  
"Hi Lex," she says quietly.  
  
"Waiting for someone?" I ask.  
  
"I was.," she replies. I watch her look around the place.  
  
"Well, I was just going to go for lunch. Care to join me?" I say calmly.  
  
I watch her quickly mull it over in her head before saying yes.  
  
"I'll just get the car," I say, walking off.  
  
Then I feel the soft vibrating of my phone and I answer it, to hear Jameson's voice.  
  
"Good news, I hope," I say.  
  
"Yes. We've found out where the spaceship was found," Jameson replies quickly.  
  
My heart pauses threatening to stop altogether.  
  
"Go on," I can barely contain my excitement.  
  
"It's from the Kent's storm cellar," Jameson says.  
  
My head reels with the information.  
  
Yet again, my life leads me back to the mystery that is Clark Kent. But this time, I have a feeling that this mystery is about to be broken. 


	5. Part Five

Part Five  
  
CLARK  
  
I watch my sleeping mother and my unconscious father and wonder, is this how my life always ends up? Someone always getting hurt.  
  
I haven't even begun to think about my spaceship and where it is but at this moment in time, I don't have the strength to.  
  
Funny that, me not having the strength.  
  
I can pick up a truck but can't even think about what to do next in my life.  
  
I peer at my father and the lump in my throat grows and I can hardly swallow it.  
  
He was trying to protect me and look where it got him. I should be the one protecting him, not the other way around.  
  
I wonder sometimes, should I just leave and never look back.just walk away from my family and my friends. friends. Chloe!  
  
I quickly rush to the nearest payphone and slot in a few coins, punching in Chloe's mobile number.  
  
"Hello Chloe, it's Clark," I say quickly.  
  
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," Chloe replies coldly. She sounds really annoyed.  
  
"Look Chloe, I am so, sorry. But my father.he's in hospital," I say, the words barely coming out.  
  
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," Chloe's voice is full of sympathy and concern and I wish she was here, right now.  
  
"It's ok, Chloe. I'm sorry, I should have called sooner but.it was just.,"  
  
"Don't worry about it. What happened?" she cuts in.  
  
"I don't really know, my mother found him this morning, in the storm cellar. He'd been beaten up."  
  
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" Chloe says, lowering her voice.  
  
In the background, I can hear a male voice. I wonder who that is?  
  
"No, not yet," I reply, my fists clenching together.  
  
"Is he ok?"  
  
"He's still unconscious," I say and look down the hall and at my father's room, my eyes sting a little.  
  
"I'm sorry, Clark.,"  
  
Then a nurse appears, walking towards me, "Clark Kent, your father's awake."  
  
A sigh of relief escapes my mouth, "Chloe, I have to go. I'll ring you later,"  
  
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," Chloe says.  
  
"Thanks," I reply and I feel slightly better.  
  
"Ok, bye," with that she hangs up.  
  
I quickly rush to my father's room and find my mother clutching his hand tightly, tears of joy running down her face.  
  
"Dad," I say loudly, walking forward.  
  
"Hey son. Back so, soon from Metropolis?" he asks, smiling.  
  
I smile back and sit down by his bed.  
  
"Jonathan.," my mum says gently.  
  
My dad's face then becomes more serious and he stares at me, his left eye still quite swollen, "son, your spaceship.I shouldn't have.it's my fault.,"  
  
"No, don't worry about it," I reply quietly, squeezing his hand.  
  
"No son, it is. If people find out about you then.you'll be taken away and I could never forgive myself."  
  
His eyes were so, full of guilt and regret and it made me hate myself and what I am.  
  
And so, I decided right there and then, I was going to get my spaceship back and remove that look in my father's eyes because he doesn't deserve to have that kind of guilt and especially not because of me.  
  
CHLOE  
  
"Here we are," Lex said, stopping at a posh Italian restaurant, "you do like Italian, I hope,"  
  
"Yeah, I love it," I reply, letting Lex help me out.  
  
As we make our way in, Lex lightly places his hand on my back and guides me in. It sends a shiver up my spine.  
  
"Aaah, Mr. Luthor," a slimy looking man says, walking up to Lex and shaking his hand like a maniac. I assume he's the manager.  
  
I watch Lex handle him with an air of disdain, he probably gets people like this all the time.  
  
I've never noticed it before but watching Lex right now, he's so, cool and forceful. His sense of power seems to fill the whole room and when he asks the man for the best table in the restaurant, the man immediately jumps to attention and leads the way.  
  
Now, if only I could get people do that for me.  
  
We sit down at a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant, soft music plays in the background and I could enjoy this, if I wasn't so, pissed off with Clark.  
  
"So, how are things at the Daily Planet?" he asks, motioning to the waiter for the menus.  
  
"It's great. What I've always wanted. Now if I could get my name on a by line, that would be even better," I say, taking a menu off the waiter.  
  
"That could be arranged," Lex replies, with a glint of danger in his eye.  
  
"I'd prefer to make it on my own, thanks," I say, feeling a little hot. I decide to change the subject, "So, what were you doing there?"  
  
Lex looks up and seems to be thinking something over, "I was doing an interview."  
  
"But I thought you never did interviews?" I ask intrigued.  
  
"Well, my friend Trevor persuaded me otherwise," Lex answers coolly, looking like he's hiding something.  
  
Blackmail I think to myself and I wonder how many secrets Lex Luthor has buried under his surface. What a story it would be, if I could uncover them.  
  
"Drinks?" the waiter asks, his pen poised.  
  
"Coffee," I reply automatically.  
  
Lex laughs and nods at the waiter for the same.  
  
"You are a true journalist," he says, smiling at me.  
  
I feel my cheeks burn.  
  
"So, what was your interview about?" I ask, thinking back to how smug Trevor looked this morning.  
  
"This and that. It doesn't really matter, he'll just print bad things about me anyway," Lex says, a sadness in his voice.  
  
"I'm sure he won't."  
  
Lex looks at me with that older I-know-better look, "journalism hasn't corrupted you yet, then?"  
  
I pout slightly, "Well I'll make sure, he doesn't say anything bad about you."  
  
"Really?" he says, raising his eyebrow.  
  
I nod and he looks at me, reaching for my hand, "Chloe.,"  
  
"Ring, ring." My mobile screams.  
  
I mouth sorry at Lex and grab my phone.  
  
"Hello Chloe, it's Clark," I hear him say.  
  
My anger flares up in me.  
  
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," I reply, hoping he can sense how annoyed I am.  
  
At the mention of Clark's name, Lex looks at me, suddenly very interested.  
  
"Look Chloe, I am so, sorry. But my father.he's in hospital," Clark says, his voice barely audible.  
  
As soon as I hear the news, my anger disappears and I shake my head for being so, selfish.  
  
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," I reply, trying to sound sorry and sympathetic.  
  
"It's ok, Chloe. I'm sorry, I should have called sooner but.it was just.," I can sense that the situation isn't great.  
  
"Don't worry about it. What happened?" I cut in, trying to make him feel a little better.  
  
"I don't really know, my mother found him this morning, in the storm cellar. He'd been beaten up,"  
  
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" I say lowering my voice; people were starting to look at me.  
  
"Chloe," Lex says, squeezing my hand. But I shake it off and concentrate on what Clark has to say.  
  
"No, not yet," Clark replies, anger in his voice.  
  
But now the more important question looms, "Is he ok?"  
  
"He's still unconscious,"  
  
"I'm sorry, Clark.," I don't know what else to say.  
  
I then hear a female voice in the background and a sigh of relief from Clark.  
  
"Chloe, I have to go. I'll ring you later."  
  
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," I say, I don't want Clark to be unhappy.  
  
"Thanks," he replies, sounding a little happier.  
  
"Ok, bye," I say, hanging up.  
  
"Is something wrong with the Kents?" Lex asked, although he doesn't sound very concerned.  
  
"Mrs. Kent found Mr. Kent beaten up in the storm cellar. He's in the hospital at the moment," I say, not wanting to say too much.  
  
"The storm cellar?" he says, but I don't think his reply was directed at me.  
  
Then our waiter comes over and whispers something into Lex's ear but I can't quite hear what he's saying.  
  
He then looks down at his watch and nods, "Look Chloe, I've got an unexpected meeting right now. I'm sorry."  
  
I look at him slightly confused, "No, it's fine."  
  
"Another time?"  
  
I nod blankly.  
  
"You can stay if you want. Order what you like, it's on me," he replies, smiling at me.  
  
Seeing him smile, makes me feel better, "Ok, thanks."  
  
He smiles again and then without another word, walks away.  
  
I see the Italian manager watching him and then looking back at me, fear in his eyes.  
  
***  
  
The next day, I wake up and pull myself to "The Daily Planet."  
  
Clark rang me last night and told me that his father was awake and fine, apart from a few cuts and bruises. They already found the culprits, Abe Merriam and Art Nickle, the two local drunks. Apparently, they were caught trespassing on the Luthor mansion the morning after their attack on Mr. Kent.  
  
I'm just glad that he isn't hurt but the bad news is that Clark said he'd probably stay in Smallville for the present and that he was sorry that his trip was cut short. I am too.  
  
Anyway, I'm going to do some work but then I hear Perry yelling at me, to go and photocopy about a million memos and then pass them out.  
  
I tell him I want to be a journalist and not a personal assistant but then he turns around and says that everyone has to start at the bottom but he appreciates my spunk.  
  
I trudge off to the photocopy room and spend about 20 minutes pressing the copy button.  
  
Then when I'm just about finished doing all the copying and am carrying it back to my desk, Trevor doesn't-look-where-he's-going McDonald comes along and walks right into me, sending mine and his papers flying everywhere.  
  
"Watch it," I say loudly.  
  
He ignores me and quickly gathers up his stuff and walks off, without even saying sorry.  
  
"Thanks for the help!" I call after him.  
  
I sigh and begin to collect up my papers when I spot something in front of me. I edge towards it and look down at it.  
  
It's a photograph, Trevor must have dropped it, I think.  
  
But as I'm about to put it into the bin, I see a familiar face. I look closer and it's definite, it's Lex Luthor and. some sort of craft.  
  
Now, what is Lex Luthor doing with this thing? And why does Trevor have a picture of this?  
  
LEX  
  
People say, you shouldn't hold grudges and that revenge is a waste of time. But in my life, grudges and revenge are the only real things I can count on.  
  
I pull up to an Italian restaurant. It's got good food but annoying people.  
  
"Here we are. You do like Italian, I hope," I ask.  
  
"Yeah, I love it," Chloe replies.  
  
As we make our way in, I lightly place my hand on her back and guide her in. I guess out of habit.  
  
"Aaah, Mr. Luthor," Paulo says, walking up to me and shaking my hand like a maniac.  
  
Paulo. He makes my skin crawl but he's done a few favours for me in the past and is as faithful as a dog.  
  
"Your best table," I say loudly.  
  
Paulo jumps to attention and I see Chloe watching me, looking impressed.  
  
We sit down at a secluded spot in the corner of the restaurant, soft music playing in the background.  
  
But now to business I think.  
  
"So, how are things at the Daily Planet?" I ask, motioning to a gormless waiter.  
  
I watch her for a second and wonder whether if she suspects.  
  
"It's great. What I've always wanted. Now if I could get my name on a by line, that would be even better," she replies cheerfully.  
  
"That could be arranged," I reply, eyeing her carefully.  
  
But no, Chloe's not that kind of girl.  
  
"I'd prefer to make it on my own, thanks. So, what were you doing there?" she says.  
  
Aaah, changing the subject and I thought I was supposed to be asking all the questions.  
  
"I was doing an interview," and that is the truth.  
  
"But I thought you never did interviews?" she asks, her reporter instinct taking over, I presume.  
  
"Well, my friend Trevor persuaded me otherwise," I answer.  
  
That's a laugh. Friend and Trevor in the same sentence. I can think up better words to associate with his name, words like enemy, murder.  
  
"Drinks?" the waiter asks, his pen poised.  
  
"Coffee," Chloe says quickly.  
  
I laugh, returning to the job at hand.  
  
"You are a true journalist," I say, smiling at her.  
  
I can see her cheeks are burning.  
  
"So, what was your interview about?" she asks, obviously trying to draw the focus away from her.  
  
"This and that. It doesn't really matter, he'll just print bad things about me anyway," I reply and it's most probably true.  
  
And I hope he does it too, because then I have a more legitimate reason to eliminate him apart from the blackmail, of course.  
  
"I'm sure he won't," she says sweetly.  
  
I marvel at her innocence, "journalism hasn't corrupted you yet, then?"  
  
"Well I'll make sure, he doesn't say anything bad about you," she replies.  
  
"Really?" I say. I'd love to see you try.  
  
She nods to reassure me and it's nice, having someone that would look out for you like that.  
  
I reach over to grab her hand, "Chloe.,"  
  
"Ring, ring."  
  
She mouths sorry to me and I watch her grab her mobile.  
  
"Sorry, I don't know a Clark," she says, quite annoyed.  
  
But I've heard Clark's name and I quickly look over at Chloe, wondering what they're talking about.  
  
"Oh Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't know.I.," she says.  
  
What's happened?  
  
"Don't worry about it. What happened?"  
  
Something has happened and I think it has something to do with the spaceship.  
  
"Oh Clark, do they know who did it?" Chloe says, lowering her voice.  
  
I need to find out what's happened. I'll try again.  
  
"Chloe," I say, squeezing her hand. But she shakes me off and I'm still left in the dark.  
  
"Is he ok?"  
  
Someone's hurt, must be Jonathan Kent, I think to myself.  
  
"I'm sorry, Clark.,"  
  
Yes, Jonathan Kent.  
  
"Don't worry, everything's going to be alright," Chloe says, her sympathy for her friend apparent.  
  
"Ok, bye," Chloe replies and hangs up.  
  
"Is something wrong with the Kents?" I ask, although I already know there is.  
  
"Mrs. Kent found Mr. Kent, beaten up in the storm cellar. He's in the hospital at the moment," Chloe replies.  
  
I feel she's holding something back.  
  
"The storm cellar?" I say and I start to piece the picture together.  
  
Then our waiter comes over and whispers to me, "Jameson says that the bait has been set and the prey has been lured in, ready for capture."  
  
Ahead of schedule, I think, as I look at my watch, "Look Chloe, I've got an unexpected meeting right now. I'm sorry."  
  
She looks at me slightly confused before replying, "No, it's fine."  
  
"Another time?" I say, trying to be more sociable.  
  
She nods blankly.  
  
"You can stay if you want. Order what you like, it's on me," I say, smiling.  
  
"Ok, thanks."  
  
I smile again and quickly make my way out.  
  
The anticipation of seeing Trevor's imminent defeat is killing me.  
  
***  
  
"Mr. Luthor," Jameson says, walking in, "he's here."  
  
"Do you have it?" I ask impatiently.  
  
Jameson nods and hands me a manila folder. I quickly flick through it and smile.  
  
I remember once, when I was about 10, I saw a Great White Shark attack a seal. I remember seeing it smile before it devoured the poor creature. That day, my father told me to be a true Luthor; I had to follow that shark's example. I guess today, I am.  
  
"Show him in," I ask, my tone softening.  
  
Trevor McDonald steps into my office, a smirk on his face.  
  
Pompous idiot but not for long, I think.  
  
"You called," Trevor said haughtily, falling into a chair in front of my desk.  
  
"And you came running," I retort coolly.  
  
Trevor's smile fades from his face, "Don't push me, Lex. I do, still have those photos of your spaceship, don't forget."  
  
"I never forget," I say sharply.  
  
"Then you're a regular elephant," Trevor says, laughing at his own joke.  
  
Fools are always the last to laugh, I think.  
  
"So Lex, was there a point to this meeting or did you just want my company?" Trevor asks, drumming his fingers on the arm rest.  
  
I wonder what a fool looks like when he cries?  
  
"Does the name Elaine Richards mean anything to you?" I ask, taking a photo out of the folder, twirling it in my fingers.  
  
I watch as the blood drains from Trevor and beads of sweat start to appear on his forehead.  
  
"Need to refresh your memory?" I say and push the photo towards him.  
  
He picks it up slowly and gasps quietly when he sees the woman's pale face staring back at him.  
  
Now for the kill.  
  
"She was a little sloppy, not quite as professional as you. But that's beginners for you, she'll learn, right?" I say, staring at him.  
  
He looks at me with hollow eyes and I see a flicker of hope still, in his eyes.  
  
"Wrong," I say acidly.  
  
"What have you done with her?" he asks quietly. I admire his composure.  
  
"Nothing much," I say, my gaze still on him.  
  
"Yet," he replies.  
  
"That's what I like about you Trevor; you know how to play this game. Shame, you can never win," I say, lacing my fingers together.  
  
"What do you want?" Trevor asks, his voice shaking slightly.  
  
"I want all the evidence about my project in my hands at ten o'clock, tomorrow morning and then I don't want any more trouble out of you. Understood?"  
  
He nods.  
  
"Good."  
  
"And Elaine?" he asks, looking up into my eyes.  
  
"She'll be safe."  
  
I hear a loud sigh of relief escape his mouth.  
  
"Goodbye, Trevor," I say, turning around to look out over Metropolis. The city that threatens to take me whole, if I'm not careful.  
  
"Lex," I hear Trevor's voice call.  
  
I breathe heavily and choose to ignore him. I've finished with him.  
  
I hear Trevor chuckle slightly, "you're so, like your father. You know that?"  
  
I clench my fists and fight the urge to go and throttle him.  
  
"Fine, don't answer. Just remember one thing, there's not enough room for two Luthors to both be in control at the same time."  
  
I turn around to face him and get up slowly, walking towards him, "I don't know why you're wasting your breath here when Elaine has only so, much time before.,"  
  
He glares at me, "what are you talking about, Luthor? You said she was safe,"  
  
"I said, she would be safe. Tick, tock," I say, taunting him to push me further.  
  
"You son of a bitch," he mutters under his breath.  
  
"Make that, a son of a Luthor," I reply icily, "better be going."  
  
He snarls and quietly skulks off.  
  
Revenge is sweet.  
  
"Finished?" Jameson asks, walking in.  
  
"Yes and now onto more important matters," I say.  
  
Jameson looks at me interested.  
  
"We're going back to Smallville," I announce.  
  
"But the testing and.," he stops short, when he sees the look forming on my face.  
  
I continue, "I'm going to pay Jonathan Kent a little visit."  
  
"Why?" Jameson enquires.  
  
"Because I have questions to ask and he has answers to share," I say softly. 


	6. Part Six

Part Six  
  
CLARK  
  
I watch as my father rests peacefully and thank god, that he's alright.  
  
I just can't believe that this could happen.that I wasn't there to help him. But at least they've got the people that did this to him.  
  
The sheriff came just after he'd woken up and dad explained the whole thing to him, leaving out the part about the stolen spaceship.  
  
No one needs to know about that, unless it's really necessary.  
  
The sheriff, Martin Young told us that they already had Abe and Art in custody, for trespassing on Lex's grounds.  
  
They must have wandered onto his estate after leaving my dad in the cellar.  
  
Then sheriff Young told us that Abe and Art were so, drunk that they'd imagined that they'd found a spaceship in our cellar. My dad and mum laughed it off, but it still made my flesh crawl, if anyone ever found out that was true.  
  
But he didn't mention anything about the spaceship being found with them, which means that between leaving the storm cellar and getting caught at Lex's, they must of hidden it somewhere.or that it's still on Lex's grounds and he might of.  
  
No, that's stupid.  
  
They must have hidden it somewhere.but where?  
  
I think I may need to talk to them later.  
  
"Clark," my mother says softly.  
  
I look over at her, concern on her face.  
  
"Yes, mum," I reply.  
  
"I think, we'd better get home," she says gently, putting her hands on my shoulders.  
  
"But what about.," I look over at my father.  
  
"Your father is going to be fine, he just needs some rest. Talking of rest, you need some," she replies, yawning slightly.  
  
I nod, she's right. I need to clear my head a bit.  
  
Plan what to do next.  
  
***  
  
I walk into my kitchen and feel better, being home, safe. well for now, anyway.  
  
"Do you want some hot chocolate, before bed?" my mother asks, pulling out a mug.  
  
"No, thanks. I think, I'll just head up," I say, giving her a quick hug and making my way upstairs.  
  
But as I do, I pass the phone and catch the blinking red light on the answer machine.  
  
I press the button and hear the sound of Chloe's voice, "Clark, are you there? Ok, I've got something to talk to you about. Call me when you get this. Don't forget. Bye."  
  
"That sounds important," my mum says.  
  
"Yeah but it's late. I'll call her tomorrow," I say, yawning.  
  
My mother nods and I trudge up the stairs to my bed.  
  
As I lie there, thoughts swirl inside my head.  
  
My family, my friends, my life, everything I have right now, I could lose in a second and it's all because of that damn spaceship.  
  
I wish, I could take it and destroy it forever, so then I can just be normal.  
  
But that's not true is it? I'm not normal, never have and never will be.  
  
I close my eyes and let sleep wash over me, drowning me in it's clutches.  
  
***  
  
I awake the next morning and look at the time, 10: 30 am. I still feel tired but know, I have to get up.  
  
I walk down the stairs and find two pieces of toast ready made for me, with a note attached:  
  
"To Clark,  
  
I've gone to see your father. Meet us there when you finish up at home.  
  
Love Mum.  
  
p.s. Don't forget to ring Chloe back."  
  
I smile and crunch up the note, throwing it into the bin. Then shoving the toast into my mouth, pick up the phone and ring Chloe's mobile.  
  
"Hello?" Chloe's voice answers faintly.  
  
"It's Clark," I reply.  
  
"Clark!" her voice seems to be getting quieter.  
  
"Chloe, are you ok? You sound really quiet," I say, holding the phone closer to my ear.  
  
"Sorry, low battery. But anyway, I need to tell you about Lex and.," but before I can hear the last bit of her sentence, she's gone.  
  
"The other person has cleared," the automated voice tells me.  
  
I shake my head and replace the handset. I guess, I'll have to ring her later.  
  
Now, what could Chloe have to say about Lex? I think, walking to the pick- up and driving to the hospital.  
  
***  
  
I walk to my father's room and as I'm approaching it, I see a familiar face, Lex.  
  
He's walking towards me, Jameson his bodyguard by his side.  
  
"Clark," he says, smiling at me, "how are you?"  
  
"I'm fine. What you doing here?" I ask, happy to see a friendly face. Also, maybe I can ask him about Abe, Art and my spaceship.  
  
"I heard about your father and just came to see if he's alright," Lex replies, a smile still on his face.  
  
I nod.  
  
"But he wasn't that happy to see me," Lex continues.  
  
I suddenly become aware that Jameson is looking at me strangely and then realise that Lex is staring at me in exactly the same way.  
  
I'd better say something, "I'm sure he appreciates that you took the time, Lex."  
  
He nods at me but I have a feeling that he doesn't believe me.  
  
"Anyway, at least they caught them. They were on your grounds, trespassing, weren't they?" I ask, trying to act casual about it.  
  
"Yes, they were. I didn't see them personally, Jameson handled it," Lex says, motioning to the man beside him.  
  
"Lex, I actually wanted.," but before I finish, Jameson makes a rather deliberate cough and indicates to Lex, that they need to leave.  
  
"Sorry Clark, but I've got a meeting. Another time?" Lex says, putting on a rather fake, business like tone, which he's never used with me.  
  
"Yeah sure," I reply, slightly bewildered and watch as they leave. Jameson whispers something to Lex and he nods in return.  
  
I shake off the creeping suspicion that they know something and walk into my father's room.  
  
I look down at my parents and see the panic on my mother's face.  
  
"What is it?" I ask, edging towards them.  
  
My father swallows hard, "It's Lex, son."  
  
LEX  
  
I lie back in my chair and think about what I'm going to say tomorrow to Jonathan Kent. So many questions to choose and so many possible answers to get.  
  
"Mr. Luthor?" Jameson says quietly.  
  
I roll my head towards him and look at him with mild interest, "yes?"  
  
"The files that Mr. McDonald gave us, have been destroyed," he replies solemnly.  
  
"Good," I reply, twirling a pen in my hands, returning to my previous thoughts.  
  
Jameson remains where he is, as if waiting for something.  
  
"Was there anything else?" I ask, turning to face him.  
  
"No, not really," he answers, his eyes studying me.  
  
"Well then, you can go."  
  
He still stands there, his eyes focused on me.  
  
"Jameson, you know it's rude to stare," I say, standing up.  
  
"Sorry. It's just that. well.," he stutters.  
  
I look at him, shaking my head.  
  
That man can be such a waste of time, sometimes.  
  
"It's just, should you really being going to see Mr. Kent at this stage?" he asks, his eyes to the floor.  
  
"Why shouldn't I?" I ask, slightly annoyed.  
  
"Because, you don't have all the facts yet," he answers.  
  
"I need answers not facts."  
  
"But.," he starts.  
  
"This conversation is over, Jameson," I say coldly, walking out of the room.  
  
Like I said before, that man can be such a waste of time.  
  
***  
  
I walk along the hospital corridors and look in at each room, filled with people that have so many unanswered questions about life and I suddenly feel superior to them because I'm about to get some answers.  
  
I arrive at my chosen destination and look into the window and see Jonathan and Martha Kent talking, the picture perfect husband and wife.  
  
"Can I come in?" I ask cautiously.  
  
Martha smiles but Jonathan Kent's face remains as stony and cold as ever.  
  
"Lex," Martha says warmly.  
  
"I heard about what happened and just wanted to see how you are," I reply, trying to sound sincere.  
  
Jonathan grunts, "what do you want really, Luthor?"  
  
"Jonathan," Martha says, rubbing his arm.  
  
"No, it's fine, Mrs. Kent. There is actually something which I need to discuss with your husband, in private. If you don't mind," I say, studying Jonathan's face for any clues to what he's thinking.  
  
Martha looks hesitantly at Jonathan, who nods back to reassure her.  
  
"I'll just go and get some coffee, shall I?" Martha asks, looking at me strangely.  
  
Jonathan and I both watch Martha leave and the tension between us grows. I shift towards him, the tension becoming thicker as I approach.  
  
I sit down beside him and watch the older man, the lines of age and wisdom on his forehead.  
  
"What is it?" he asks, turning to face the window.  
  
"I need to know if anything was stolen from your cellar?" I ask.  
  
I guess there's no point beating around the bush.  
  
"Why do you need to know that?" his voice sounds slightly shaken.  
  
"It's just a question," I reply smoothly.  
  
Jonathan Kent then turns to look at me, his face calm as the sky outside, "is it?"  
  
This is not as easy as I thought it would be, "yes. It's just a question that needs an answer."  
  
"Then no, there's your answer," he replies, his eyes full of hate for me.  
  
"I don't believe you," I say, frustrated at the outcome of this conversation.  
  
"Then that's a shame," he answers.  
  
"I have it," I say, trying to get something more.  
  
"Have what?"  
  
"Mr. Kent, I don't underestimate your intelligence, please don't underestimate mine," I say, staring at him.  
  
"I don't have anything else to say to you," he says coldly, turning away from me.  
  
"Maybe later then," I reply, getting up, "maybe, I'll talk to Clark."  
  
"Don't go near my son," he replies, the anger building in his voice.  
  
"Stop me," I say, walking out. I suddenly hear a loud thump but carry on walking.  
  
"Mr. Luthor?"  
  
"Yes, Jameson?" I ask, stopping.  
  
"We got the tests back."  
  
"And?" I say, folding my arms.  
  
"The metal of the craft matches that of the metal that you found before. Also, that it was definitely carrying something when it crashed to earth," Jameson says in a low voice.  
  
"Good," I begin to walk again, Jameson following, "also, I want some "precautions" to be set around the Kents."  
  
Jameson raises his eyebrows but shakes it off and nods.  
  
Then I see him, the other Kent and smile.  
  
"Clark," I say, "how are you?"  
  
"I'm fine. What are you doing here?" he replies. His face revealing no suspicions unlike his father.  
  
"I heard about your father and just came to see if he's alright," I answer, lying through my teeth.  
  
He nods at me absentmindedly and I wonder if he suspects.  
  
"But he wasn't that happy to see me," I continue, still trying to gauge what he's thinking about.  
  
"I'm sure he appreciates that you took the time, Lex," Clark says, a natural sincerity in his voice.  
  
"Anyway, at least they caught them. They were on your grounds, trespassing, weren't they?" he says, obviously trying to change the subject.  
  
"Yes, they were. I didn't see them personally, Jameson handled it," I reply.  
  
"Lex, I actually wanted.," he begins but I feel I need to get on with other business.  
  
"Sorry Clark, but I've got a meeting. Another time?"  
  
"Yeah sure," he replies.  
  
I walk off and Jameson whispers in my ear, "do you think he knows?"  
  
I peer back at Clark, the good natured, slightly naïve farm boy, "not a clue."  
  
MARTHA  
  
I walk away from my husband's room and hope that Lex is here for things that don't concern my son.  
  
But I have a sneaking suspicion that no good, will come of this.  
  
As I push for a coffee and watch the brown liquid fall into the cup, I wonder if things are ever going to be normal again?  
  
But then again, define normal for me. No, ever since that day when Clark came hurtling into our lives, things stopped being normal, which wasn't a bad thing.  
  
Abnormal was just perfect for me and now since the Luthors have entered our lives, abnormal seems such a distant memory.  
  
I wish I could just be abnormal again. 


End file.
